Heart and Soul
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: It is Sherlock's first Valentine's Day back after being 'dead', and John wants to get him something nice. Light Johnlock slash.


_**Yes, I know Valentine's Day was last week, but I had to work, and this just came to me while I was there. Just got around to typing and posting because finals week is a dirty pirate hooker. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy my first real foray into Johnlock slash, even if it's pretty light.**_

___**Pairings: John/Sherlock**_

**_Warnings: light slash_**

****_**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock... clearly.**_

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><p>Today is Valentine's Day. Normally, I've got no tolerance for it, just a jumped up saint's day to promote lots of pink and hearts and flowers and <em>bollocks<em>. However, this one is a bit different. Sherlock Holmes, my best friend, a man I deeply love and care about, came back from the dead only three weeks ago. I must admit, I punched him when he first returned, but who wouldn't when someone they loved that much had lied to them for nearly two years about being dead? Of course, after I shouted at him, I hugged him tighter than I've ever hugged anyone. I cried… quite a lot. I was just so infinitely happy to have him back that I could barely think straight. I just hugged him and cried. He did the same.

So I want to get him something nice for today, something he'll find useful or intriguing. Certainly nothing so mundane as chocolate or a card. Looking around online, I find something promising: a place that sells sort of macabre antiques and oddities. I take down the address and go there. It's an amazing little shop, full of medical antiques, strange items from all over, preserved freaks of nature. I look all over the shop for that one thing that will scream 'Sherlock' from the shelf.

And I find it. I know I don't have to look any further. I immediately purchase it and take it home to put into a nice, plain gift bag. Sherlock is working away on some experiment in the kitchen. I call his name. He looks up.

"Yes, John? What is it?"

I hold out the bag, saying, "Here. Happy Valentine's Day."

His eyebrows shoot up as he responds, "Really? Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, well, I missed your birthday 'cause I thought you were dead… and I've missed you these last two years… quite a bit actually. I wanted to get you something nice."

Sherlock looks curious now and takes the bag carefully from my hand. He pulls the paper out of the bag, and he suddenly grins, pulling his gift from the bag. His eyes nearly sparkle as he holds up the squared jar, examining the hole through the human heart within.

"A heart with a bullet hole through it. I… thank you, John. It's wonderful."

"Now you're not allowed to experiment on it, Sherlock. It's for decoration only."

"I would never dream of ruining it… not when it's a gift from you."

I feel heat creeping up into my face. From Sherlock, that's a major compliment. As I watch him, he starts to frown, saying, "I've got nothing to give you, John."

"Honestly, it's enough just having you here after two years without you," I reply quietly.

We share a smile. He gets up and places the heart right next to the skull on the mantelpiece, admiring it before grabbing his violin. He plays all my favourites, as if apologizing for not having a gift for me. I simply sit back in my chair and watch this extraordinary man play his violin until I apparently nod off. He gently shakes my shoulder, telling me jokingly, "You know, it's rude to fall asleep during a performance."

"Sorry," I say, rubbing my eyes, "It was just so lovely, I couldn't help it."

He just smiles and offers to call a takeaway for dinner, asking me what I want. An hour later, we are laughing together, eating Chinese food on the sitting room floor. Halfway through, he suddenly jumps to his feet, going to his desk and returning with a small, neatly wrapped package.

"This is for you. Happy Valentine's Day, John," he says shyly.

I peel off the paper to reveal a CD. On the front is written, "_Violin Compositions / To John / From Sherlock_," in Sherlock's familiar scrawl with indelible ink.

"I made it while you were napping. I know how much you like these songs especially."

"Wow… I… it's lovely, Sherlock," I stammer quietly, "Thank you."

"I… I don't know if you know… but all those songs you like, that I put on the CD for you… erm… well, I wrote them. For you. All of them. Usually in the middle of your nightmares. I discovered the violin soothed you, comforted you. It got rid of your nightmares. I figured this way, if I'm ever not there for some reason and you have a nightmare… you can listen to this."

I feel the tears prick at my eyes.

"It's the best gift I've ever gotten."

I pull my plate around and sit beside him, our knees touching. We continue our dinner in silence until he throws a fried noodle at me. I throw one back, and it's not long before we are back to being playful, giggling like schoolchildren as we try to feed each other with chopsticks. It's a bloody mess for sure, missing mouths and dropping food. I reach over the wipe a bit of sauce from his chin with my thumb. Our eyes lock. My hand doesn't move from his chin. Without thought, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his in a brief kiss. After a few seconds, I pull away. He follows me, kissing me again, our lips slotting together perfectly. I gently nip at his lower lip, then soothe it with my tongue. He parts his lips for me, and I slide my tongue carefully into his mouth, tasting our dinner and something indescribably 'Sherlock'. I move my hand from his chin, resting two fingers on the pulse in his neck. Our tongues slide together, exploring each other's mouth, trying to memorize everything we could. One of his hands cups my cheek, the other feeling for my heartbeat. There is no lust or harsh desire. There are only the feelings of affection and love we have felt for a long time now, feelings that shot to the surface upon his return. Several minutes pass before we break our slow, passionate kiss. We smile shyly at each other.

However, he then pinches me in the side where I'm ticklish. I let out a yelp and bat his hand away, deciding to throw another noodle at him. We're back to laughing loudly and throwing food at each other, only now punctuated by small kisses.

Happy Valentine's Day, indeed.

_We're all a little weird._

_And life is a little weird._

_And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours,_

_we join up them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness_

_-and call it love – true love._

_-Robert Fulgham_

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><p><em><strong>I just adore that last quote, and I couldn't he<strong>_**_lp but use it here. It just fits so perfectly._**

****_**Reviews are love and sunshine and joy.**_

_**Also if anyone is interested, here is the link to a picture of the heart on my tumblr:**_

_**http: / / xcourtneychaoticx. tumblr. com /post /17690977583 /fuckyeahmedicalstuff-a-preserved-human-heart (just remove the spaces)**  
><em>


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